A necessary comfort
by x-Eme-x
Summary: one-shot. set during season one. Anne Boleyn comforts Henry as he grieves the loss of Henry FitzRoy.


One-shot, set during season one. Anne (Boleyn) comforts Henry as he grieves the loss of Henry FitzRoy.

This is a simple one-shot, but with a _twist_ at the end… well sort of, and that all I'm going to say… oh and I'm trying to write the characters – with the way they talked back then – a close as I can. Also I'm not very religious, so bare with me if you read anything that might be off.

**"All the achievements of a lifetime are worthless without an heir to succeed us." –King Henry VIII, King of England.**

**

* * *

**

"Mistress Boleyn, your Majesty."

She was announced, and gracefully entered the room. The informant left as she bowed. Even with the recent tragedy, I could not suppress the happy-grin that formed on my face for Anne just brought a great joy to just about anything. I could feel some of my tears start to fade – joy cast of a great deceptiveness of calm.

"My lord, I don't wish to bring you anymore pain, or speak out of term but it is true what everyone is saying? Saying about your son?" She asked with sadness in her voice. I could tell that sadness was what she felt for me right now, for I could see her resisting the urge to reach and touch me. Her hand would slowly lift into the air, but she quickly let it fall back.

"I wish it were all a dream," I stated with weariness. "It was like a dream when I had learned of my son, and I had many high hopes. I should have known better than to let the hopes flutter. I wish I could figure out what I am doing wrong."

"You never do anything wrong, and that is why you're such a great King."

"If I'm the great King that you speak of, then why did my son die?" I asked austerely.

I was stating the truth. One of the greatest achievements that a king could ever make was producing a male heir. A male heir who would one day take their father's place to become King. To continue on, to create greater achievements. Greater success, and hopefully have a son of there own. It seemed like a constant thing for all generations of Kings, but it was important.

"I know I'm a good King, but maybe I'm doing something wrong. Maybe you're right though… If I was doing something in an erroneous manner I would know about it. My life would not be as happy as it is right now."

I stood up as I spoke my last sentence. I started walking to my beloved Anne.

"But still bad things must happen in the world. For the all the flawed things in our world, as much as we suffer because of it, they do open up doors to a new directions. Better directions. Still the constant suffering in my life is the loss of children, and still – no male heir."

"Your majesty," Anne voice was soft yet radiating.

"Take a look around. You are the King of England. You have everything, but yet you deserve much more. When you told me than you would do anything in your power to get me what I want. I believed you. When you promised to protect me, I believed you."

"I always keep my promises Anne, especially when comes to you."

Anne's sad smile faded, I could tell she wanted to smile. I wish she did not hold back because of me. I wish her to act freely as possible around me.

"Don't hide your beautiful smile from me. It makes me happy to know you're happy." I spoke in earnest.

"I'm glad I make you happy my Lord, but right now, it's not about me. It's about you, and the fact you just lost your son. As much as I hate seeing you sad, everyone needs to grieve."

Anne finally walked over to me, and I pulled her into my arms, holding tight but yet close. My tears flowed through me eyes yet again.

"Of all the things I think I understand, it still hits hard. You speak greatly of me my love, but of all those great things, why can't I get a son?"

"You will get a son. I promise you. The court said Henry FitzRoy died of the sweating sickness. A vile disease that we can't predict or stop from happening. You may feel like your status gets you know where with your _children_, but with the death of your son… you're still here, you're still the King of England, and you still have your daughter."

I think this was the first time Anne had made mention of Mary. Mary is a very important part of my life, but she would never hold the title that a son could hold. Still Anne's words struck me like a bow in the heart – in a pure strike – _without suffering, there wouldn't be compassion_. Happiness always had its faults, faults that ended badly, but suffering would always pass in time.

If I could have a healthy daughter. I would most like have a healthy son. I just had to fine the right person. A part of me really wanted that person to be Anne.

Anne pulled away from me, but placed each of her hands of either side of my shoulders. Our foreheads touched before she spoke again.

"I promise you. I promise, like I had before. We are going to get married, and we're going to have a son."

I pulled away from Anne and just stared at her. There was that _promise_, a promise that always gave me hope, but I would not get my hopes up. For there was something about Anne – as daring as she was – was that screamed failure, and doom. For even the greatest promises where always broken.

I stared at Anne some more and she stared back. Then we were interupted by Cardinal Wolsley.

"Your majesty, I'm sorry for the time I choose to do this, but you did want to meet the queen's new lady's in waiting."

"Yes, of course."

"King Henry, meet Jane Seymour."

**Well I hope you liked it, and got the **_**twist**_** at the end. I love Anne Boleyn, but everyone always said that she was doomed in her relationship with King Henry 8, and she never did produce a healthy male heir. Please leave a review**.


End file.
